Golden Memories
by ShiroiYuki911
Summary: It started when I went down the passage. I found myself in a tomb, with a family of tombkeepers, and I was being told that I was destined to be married to the youngest of them; a boy named Marik.
1. Present Day

**Hi :) This is simply the shortest thing I have ever written :) It's only an Introduction, that's why. Next chapter will be much longer...**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN YU-GI-OH!**

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><p>My name is Lemiara.<p>

There are challenges that I face in the present moment.

Challenges that I can only triumph over if I delve into the carefully concealed secrets of my past; hidden so anxiously behind layers of intricately woven masks that I wear to convince myself that certain memories never existed.

However, this is something that I must do.

The imperative solution is one that I don't wish to face, and yet, I know I have to for the sake of the monster that I hate, but who I love. If I do this, maybe he'll be better.

If I relive all the pain that I went through, maybe I'll find the key to releasing him from his prison that he constructed for himself out of his own hatred.

Maybe I will be able to break through the fiend that now stands in his place; the demon that I despise so, but who seems to be almost indestructible.

Maybe I'll be able to save him from himself.


	2. The Wheel of Fortune

**Hi :) This is part one of the Golden Quartet, which follows Lemiara and Marik throughout Battle City. This is just so that people understand what happened between them. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Pfft, I wish.**

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><p><strong><em> The Wheel of Fortune<em>**- _Destiny begins to turn._

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><p>"And this is the great chamber that the Pharaoh would have been held in," the voice of tour guide pierced my ears sharply. Ouch, could she lay off the helium? "Unfortunately, the body was never recovered, due to the tomb thieves that would have ransacked this sacred sight long ago."<p>

I rolled my eyes at this assumption. Of course; they always blame it on tomb thieves. Heck, scientists could have stolen the body for experiments or something and we'd never know.

My gaze strayed over to the end of the chamber, where faded hieroglyphics were carved in the wall thousands of years ago. A man is obviously glorified in the depiction; he sat on a throne and wore a crown, telling me that he is the Pharaoh. Listed below him are six figures, presumably members of his royal court; if they even had one back in those days.

I held up my hand, but the tour guide was intent on ignoring me. How unjust. Though, it might have had something to do with how she knows it was I who scared the crap out of the group by wailing like the dead behind the sarcophagus of Tutankhamen. That, or she was simply in the mood.

"Excuse me, miss?" I politely interrupted her, though I had let the tinniest drop of anger seep into my words. What? I'm an adolescent; I'm bound to get angry with all my raging hormones!

The tour guide glared murder at me, and I saw that perhaps the 'tinniest bit of anger' wasn't so tiny after all.

"What is it?" She snappishly replied, but I found it very difficult to take her seriously as she sounded like something out of Alvin and The Chipmunks.

I have rather good composure, though, and I managed to keep myself under control as I arranged the question I wished to relay aloud.

"This tomb; it would have belonged to that guy, right?" I asked, referring to the man I saw ruling in the hieroglyphics. I imagined that he would have ordered hundreds of servants to squander in the sand and build him something that would guide him to the world beyond death. I wonder how many people might have died for that cause, and how much that ruler would have cared. "Then how come you don't know his name? The cartouche has to be around here somewhere."

"What '_guy_'?" The tour guide pronounced my word with distaste, but I found it hilarious. Then I registered her words' meaning, and my brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"That guy," I explained patiently, pointing to the wall of hieroglyphics. Seriously, it wasn't that hard to tell who I was talking about; the Pharaoh was only, like the most brilliantly portrayed character in the carvings. However, the vexing lady sniffed the air like a dainty noblewoman from the seventeenth century, yet I couldn't help but think that she resembled a stuffed dog.

"Young lady, I don't know what you're playing at," she'd begun; narrowing her eyes at me to say that she thought it was another of my devious tricks. "But this tomb was never finished. No carvings were ever even started for this burial chamber."

I raised my eyebrow, thinking that this was her weird idea of revenge on me; making me think that there was nothing on the wall.

"Are you blind?" I asked, laughing at the incredulity of her behaviour. "It's right there! Seriously, this Pharaoh has his figure practically as the centre of attention!"

"Cease this foolishness!" The tour guide snappishly yipped at me. Unfortunately, her voice raised an octave higher than usual, and this caused me to burst out in a terribly contained fit of giggles. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one. However, as I looked back up at her, there were two spots of bright red on the lady's cheeks, and her eyes were thick with outrage.

In a sad attempt to regain her self-respect, she clapped her hands together loudly, and called for the better part of attention from the crowd.

"Right, now we'll ignore that _unseemly_ disruption," the lady hissed her dramatic sentence snidely at me, but I was staring at her intently, wondering whether she was just trying to fool me. "Now, if you'll come this way, I'm sure you will find the real carvings of the tomb of Rameses II much more interesting."

She proceeded to lead the major part of the tour away from me and towards the door, but I was far from being defeated.

"Are you seriously saying that you can't see them?" I called over to her, which caused her to stiffen and slowly turn around to face me.

"There is nothing there, little girl," I bristled at the insulting name, but the lady continued. "It seems to me that you are hallucinating, and I would recommend a visit to the medical area above ground once we arrive at the main station."

I shook my head in amazement, and walked over so that I was directly beside the carving. It was impossible for her to not miss it!

"It's right here!" I found myself smiling in wonder at her lack of vision. I reached up with my hand to brush the indentions. "Look, here's his head and"-

"_You do not touch the exhibits_!" The tour guide screamed at me, raising a hand as if there was no distance between us and she could slap me from where she stood, which was impossible. Her breathing was heavy and those dots on her cheeks had grown to a large flush. "How you could possibly think…?"

"We apologise," a new voice interrupted, and it was one I knew well. It was calm, and had its own soothing effect. It was my mother's. "Lemiara has been feeling rather unwell, and it's our fault for making her come here today; she didn't want to."

"Yes," my father's warm tone joined in. "We'll deal with her if you go along. We will catch up, I promise you."

The tour guide was uncertain and kept casting suspicious glares over toward me, but I had the sense to keep my mouth shut and observe. It appeared to me that the guide was actually telling me the truth; that she couldn't see the obvious carvings that I now see to cover the entire room. The whole group, it seemed, were unable to view them as well.

Surely, though, my parents were able to understand what I'm yammering on about. That's why they were standing up for me.

Eventually, they managed to convince the lady to leave-however begrudgingly she did it. Then they made their way over to me, and my mother threw an arm around my shoulder and stared at me with concern visible in her eyes. My gaze wandered to my father, but the expression was mirrored in his face.

It was then I knew I was the only one who could see the hieroglyphics.

"Oh, god," I whispered and felt myself growing weak at the knees. My father deftly caught me, and I slowly sank to the ground as he supported me.

"Honey?" My mother stroked my hair away from my eyes as she knelt beside us. "What's the matter?"  
>Was I going mad?<p>

If I was, then I should tell them. What if the tour guide was right and I am hallucinating. I need to tell somebody, if that's the case.

But…

Those carvings: they just look so…real. Too real to be something that I imagined! I have had a hallucination before; just when I had premeds before an operation on my tonsils, and this is nothing like that!

"I just…don't feel very well," I lied quietly, burying my head into my mother's shoulder for extra relief. "I really think that I need some time alone, if that's okay."

"How do you not feel well?" My father persisted; pulling my face up so that he can rest a hand on my forehead to check my temperature. I shook him away.

"It's not like that," I replied, pressing down heavily on my eyelids as I feel a headache coming on. "Please…could you just let me have some time alone; or maybe could someone go get me drink?"

My parents were immediately hesitant to leave me alone- in a tomb; that is! - But my father volunteered to do a drink run. A plan to buy time formed, and I told him that the stall selling bottles of water was located just beyond the tourist station that the tour guide was going on about.

As soon as he had left, I began to count steadily to the gentle stokes that my mother was trying to soothe me with. After a minute had past, I raised myself up as though in alarm.

"Oh no!" I gasped. "I accidently told Dad the wrong place, Mum! The drinks are really over by the entrance; I should have remembered; we saw them as we came in!"

My mother reached into her bag and retrieved a mobile phone.

"It's okay, Lemi," she reassured me, flipping it open and beginning to press some buttons slowly like older adults seem to always do. "I'll just send him a message and he can change directions."

"But that will take him another five minutes to get there!" I know; it was an exaggeration, but we were underground and time became distorted. "Please, I think that my thirst is causing these visions!"

My mother bit her lip, but I managed to get her rush away out of the tomb when I told her that Dad probably wouldn't be far off once he saw that there were no drinks where he was going.

I felt bad about having to lie to and manipulate them like this, but I actually did need some alone time to contemplate some things.

Firstly, I thought as I cast a weary glance over to the wall, it was time to check out those hieroglyphics.

There wasn't much that I hadn't already seen on that wall. It simply depicted a Pharaoh surrounded by his people. The only new thing I saw was the necklace he wore.

It first appeared to be pyramid, and, indeed it was; but it was reversed; symbolizing individual growth. I found myself entrapped in the glare of the one eye of Horus that is situated in the middle of the first face of the shape.

It was then that I noticed it.

A flicker of movement; barely noticeable, but still it flashed momentarily on the edges of peripheral vision.

I whirled around immediately. I was expecting…well, something. However, nothing had changed. It was still the same; just new hieroglyphics that adorned a different wall.

Except these ones seemed to call to me. Yes, it's a cliché, but I really felt something when I saw them. I had to look closer at them, so I took a step forward…then another…and another…until I finally stood with my nose millimetres away from the dusty limestone.

"What is this?" I whispered to myself, and yet, my words echoed loudly. Too loud when they should have been blocked by the solid matter in front of me.

The carvings showed a man standing before sacred treasure, but he looked poor. Above him were small rows of hieroglyphics, but I didn't understand what they meant. This was followed by three depictions, set around an Ankh like the points of a triangle, of monsters.

Then it happened.

My eyes locked onto the monster which stood above the rest of them, and I immediately knew it. Through the colourless wall, I knew what the monster looked like; I could envision the glinting scales, the ferocious teeth, and the swirling long tail of fire. The picture brought a name to mind, a name that would play such a major part of my future.

"_Winged Dragon of Ra_."

I didn't realise that I had spoken aloud until moments after, but that thought was quickly forgotten.

The monster's eyes glinted golden, and I blinked repeatedly to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating, but the wall-the entire wall that held the hieroglyphics- moved with a loud click.

It revealed a passageway.

I was shocked, but couldn't resist peering down it. I saw no hint of an opening; all I could see was black darkness. That was just my eyes, though.

Grinning, I swung my bag around from my back to retrieve my new torch before replacing it back on my shoulders. I pressed the button, and piercing light flooded the passageway to reveal…nothing.

I still saw no area that it led to. Maybe it was a trap for thieves, and hadn't been used for thousands of years! It certainly wasn't safe to go wandering around it, in any case.

"Lemiara!"

The voice of my father echoed loudly throughout the chamber, surprising me. I released the torch in my hand with a gasp, and rushed to pick it up, but suddenly found that it was now rolling into the passageway.

My eyes widened. The lean in this room meant that nothing should've rolled that way, but I have to get my torch; it's my only one!

Besides, if I chase after it now, I thought, I'll catch it quick and be out of there before anybody realises I was there.

I nodded to myself, praying that my father would be delayed for the moment, and I rushed into the passageway to retrieve my torch. It was rolling slowly, but almost as if something was pulling it, which is stupid, and rather stereotypical.

Finally catching up to it, I knelt quickly and shoved it into my bag. Standing up, I whirled and tried to move back towards the chamber, but I tripped against something and fell against the ground.

I say something not because it is a significant object that the heroine of a story stumbles into; but because I actually couldn't see where I was going.

This would be strange, as I was running down this path only moments ago, but I knew why I was blind here.

There was no longer any light in the passageway.

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><p>"Lemiara?" Arthur Ramosel entered the bleary chamber and the light from the small torches winked dully back at him. He carried three water bottles in his hand-given to him by his partner- but there was to be no receiver of them in the tomb.<p>

His wife, Opal, shortly followed him, and her breathing grew erratic as she saw that her daughter was not to be seen in the chamber.

"Arthur, where is she?" It was a stupid question to ask her husband, who'd knelt down beside where he'd last seen Lemiara. He scowled impatiently back up at her.

"Do I look as if I know the answer to that?" He replied, wasting no time on scouring the floor for signs. He saw footprints leading to the blank wall opposite him, then he saw one print-which indicates that the person would have taken a step- but then the tracks suddenly ceased. There was also a smell in the air; like smoke but also a slight essence.

"I only left her a for a few moments, Arthur," she whimpered, clutching her hands tight around the string of her sun hat. "I promise; I really did."

"She's only ten years old, Opal!" He snapped back at her, taking his frustration out on his wife (A\N; that seems healthy…). "You just don't leave children lying around unsupervised- in a tomb!- when they're only ten!"

His wife dissolved into sobs, and ran up to the ground to retrieve help, but Arthur Ramosel stood before the wall, transfixed. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes were level with that of Ra's dragon, but they held no glint for him.

The man stared at the blank limestone, trying to figure out what about it had captured the attention of his daughter so. For, he knew, that was key to her disappearance.

That was why she was going to vanish from their lives for the next three months.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. Please give me some feedback; is there anything that I need to change, any mistakes? I know that Lemiara might seem somewhat mature for an eleven year old, but that could be something for me to work on? <strong>

**Thanks, please review :)**


	3. Two of Pentacles

**Hi :)**

**Sorry for the long wait- I had a bit of Writer's Block, but I got over it and busted this out :) Hopefully there won't be such a long wait for the next chapter: I promise I'll work on it!**

**Thank you SO MUCH for everyone who reviewed. It meant so much to me and it really made me strive to get through my Writer's block and give you all this chapter :) **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN YU-GI-OH!**

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><p>In<em> his memory, the eight-year-old boy sat on the step that curved sharply down to where a limestone archway had been cut into the walls long ago.<em>

_The boy was entranced by the way that the opening held impenetrable darkness that was so different to the kind that he himself lived in. On each side of the hollow entrance were hieroglyphics, so convolutedly carved into the smooth wall behind it that the boy's eyes began to hurt from trying to decipher them- and he'd been raised with the language! _

_Above the blackness of the passageway was a single flame torch; suspended above the ground with a yellowed glass holder squashed between melded together bricks to prevent its fall. There was something off about the wick itself; the boy was easily able to tell that the torch has been lit multiple times before- the old dried wax droplets proved that- but he suspected that the wick had been replaced repeatedly over time. The torch was not lit, so perhaps it was...broken or something?_

_This confused him; why not just put a new torch there? He was, in fact, feeling quite ignorant to the entire purpose of the irrelevant candle- there were more than enough torches in the chamber to be able to shed light on the darkest areas of the room._

_He would've immediately bounced off to interrogate his father about it, but he'd recently had an argument with the man in question, and would rather not face the elder's ire until it had simmered down a bit. It was so stupid; the argument. The child had simply asked what was outside, and the parental figure had snapped at him and said that it was no concern of his- seeing as he wouldn't be seeing the world anytime soon. _

_The boy's fists clenched as an almost uncharacteristic wave of fury washed over him like a tsunami would envelope an unweary town; flooding into every crevice, every nook that the vulnerable host would offer. _

_He hated his father for binding him to the traditions of the past generations! He hated this entire family for treating their own children as nothing more than heirs! He hated them all; his stupid father who views smiling as a foreign concept. He hated his mother; the ugly cow who decided she was just going to die as soon as her own son was born. He hated Ishizu; how she was so meek and submissive to their father. He hated Rishid; the idiot who seemed to believe that one day the boy's father was just going to snap out of a mysterious trance and welcome him into the family. It was pathetic._

_The lot of them could all go to Underworld, for all he would care. How much more easy his life would be if they all vanished; there'd be no more nagging, no more slaving away…no more tomb-keeping._

_Perhaps he would send them there himself. Show them all how much he cared about his family's 'duty.'_

_The young boy felt a slow smirk begin to stretch his lips; malice dripping from his mouth like venom from the fangs of a ravenous viper. His mind felt so much more…whole than normal. It was rather refreshing; opposed to the loneliness he usually felt. _

"_Master Marik?" The voice of Rishid echoed around the walls, and it succeeded in snapping the young boy out of his slightly disturbing trance. "Are you alright?"_

_The boy slowly turned around his eyes wide and fearful at the thoughts that had previously engulfed his mind. His forehead broke out in cool perspiration, and his body began to tremble slightly as he imagined in his mind what would have happened if he'd acted upon the thoughts. _

_But he wasn't going to kill his family...He wasn't some type of psycho…_

_Rishid, seeing the boy in such a state, immediately sat down next to him on the faded golden stair and gazed at him in deep concern. He could see that the boy was scared, that much was obvious. What he feared, however, was another question. It could be his father; he had just been arguing with the parental figure earlier. But Rishid was positive the older man would never be able to reduce the boy to a state he was in now unless for duty's sake. _

"_Master Marik?" He repeated the boy's name, hoping that it will cause him a bit of comfort to hear another voice. The young boy jerked, his fists clenching, before he finally raised his head. Rishid was relieved to see that there were no glistening tears on the boy's cheeks. That would have been difficult to explain the father. The elder boy leaned over to the youth and gently patted the brown skin comfortingly. "Are you alright, Master Marik?"  
>The boy, Marik, bit his lip to contain himself from bursting out with everything. He restrained himself, though; because Rishid would just run off and tell Father in hope of gaining approval-just like the little suck-up he was. <em>

_The boy frowned; Rishid wasn't a suck-up. The only reason Rishid would tell Father about anything would be concern for Marik. Or fear. _

_Probably fear._

"_I'm fine, Rishid," he replied eventually, rubbing his eye out of the feeling of mental weariness. "I'm just…scared."_

_The man beside him thought he understood entirely- he assumed his master was anticipating the upcoming tomb keeper ritual. It was easy to see why he was dreading it; for the child was only eight years old. The prospect of having your back sliced open in various shapes and then having the intricate symbols being burnt into your flesh was not a very positive one. _

_The two males sat in silence- the elder not wanting to comment on his assumptions purely for the misplaced respect and longing he felt for the eldest Ishtar. He felt saying anything against his master would come back to bite him, because the younger child could easily go repeating his words to his father, and then where would they be?_

"_Hey, Rishid?" Marik spoke up to break the mutual silence, for his hateful thoughts directed at Rishid cowardly traits were beginning to rise once more, so he needed to discover a distraction. The elder boy inclined his head respectfully as a gesture for the younger to continue. "Where does that door go to?"  
>Rishid cast a glance towards what the boy was pointing towards and he saw the familiar door cut into the archway opposite the steep stairs the pair sat at. He noted how the torch beside it was still unlit, and he breathed a sigh of relief. <em>

"_Beyond that door is the Passage of Fate," the elder explained, repeating from what he had read from the scrolls in the tomb keeper library. He'd gotten curious whilst he was supposed to be doing his chores, but eldest Ishtar had been ill that day. "Once every generation, a child will be born in the world that is the soul mate, so to speak, of the existing heir to the Ishtar line. That child will eventually find its way to Egypt, and will cross through the passage to the heir, and will then become their partner."_

"_Was Mother one of them, then?" The boy asked curiously, digesting all the information that the other had to offer. He was at that stage, see; where a child just has to know everything that the planet has. _

"_I assume so, yes," Rishid confirmed with a shrug, remembering that the scroll had said something about age difference. "If there are two lines to a family, like a brother and sister, then it will all depend on what type of person walks through the door."_

_The child nodded, but then a thought occurred to him, a thought that he didn't exactly find favourable, considering he hadn't reached the age where lust was apparent. _

"_Does that mean that I'll have a wife when I'm older?" He asked with a crinkled nose, like he was disgusted by the thought of any woman other than his sister, whom he did still love dearly. _

"_It is possible," his adoptive brother agreed with him, but then noticed the worried expression on his master's face, so hurried to make amends, "But, if it is a boy that walks through the door, than Isis will be the married one, and you'll be fine."  
>He didn't add that Marik's father might not be satisfied with this, and will, therefore, send for an arranged marriage with one of the neighbouring tomb keepers.<br>"Ew! I don't want to get married to a girl!" Marik frowned at the thought of a woman chasing after him every single minute of the day. "She might try to kiss me!"_

_Rishid chuckled to himself, admiring at how the boy was innocent since his hormones hadn't kicked in yet. If the child was this repulsed by the thought of kissing, he couldn't wait to see how he reacted to the act of sex. The boy might turn gay!_

_The smile was wiped off of his face. If the child did turn out gay, he shuddered to think of what fate and torture he would be subjected to at the hands of his father, who wouldn't accept the sexuality of his son. He'd want an heir, and would easily force the course of reproduction on his child._

_Despite his eagerness and desire to become a tomb-keeper himself, Rishid wouldn't wish any harm to come to his master; who was so innocent that one couldn't help but love him._

_He couldn't help but wonder at the fate of the young, eight year old boy._

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><p><strong>The Two of Pentacles-<strong> _Imminent changes that must be dealt with through knowledge and skillful manipulation. _

Abasi Ishtar paced through the room where he would soon be carving the legacy of his line into his young heir, Marik.

Most of the preparations were complete; the knives were sharpened to the point where they would cut swiftly and easily through the skin; the chains were set and the new hieroglyphs had been carved to ward off evil spirits when the boy was in recovery; and the bandages were all set and recently sterilised.

There was one thing missing. The boy needed a wife, dammit! He was willing to wait until they were at least fourteen before pressing for an heir. Marik would need some serious hardening up until then, though, so that he could have it in him to continue the line without complaint. If he was still as naive as he was at that moment, he worried that the boy wouldn't even create an heir because he wouldn't want to hurt his wife.

Abasi didn't even acknowledge the fact that it might be a boy that would walk through the Passage of Fate; he'd raised Marik to be the one to procreate, as his blood line would be much more pure than that of a mere female. If it was a young girl that walked through, however, the line would be much better in the outcome.

But the woman needed to actually turn up first.

Abasi found himself turning the corridor and heading into the part of the tomb that held the sacred passageway. It was a place that he had been returning to quite frequently over the past few years. Since Marik was nearing his coming-of-age, it was only natural that his partner was going to appear soon.

It had been three years, though. It was going to be frustrating if the woman hadn't turned up by the night that he planned to initiate Marik. On the man's own initiation, he'd been wedded to the young girl that had wandered through the Passageway. It had been drilled into him that she was simply a means to an end; that there wasn't much use falling into the myth that those who came through the door were the 'soul-mates' of the heir. Love would complicate the continuance of the pure bloodline, and that simply wouldn't do.

Abasi only hoped that Marik would understand that when his wife would come to them.

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><p>It was when the lights had vanished from my view that I truly began to panic.<p>

I'd read a million stories about tomb-robbers that had been trapped in secret passages that were strategically built into parts of various tombs, so I knew that there was a fair possibility that I was going to die of thirst or starvation.

I also knew that there probably traps built into the walls around me, so I was very careful about where I was standing. There was a lot of weight in the limestone walls; and I had a suspicion that pounding my fists against the door through which I'd entered was only going to trigger a trap or some sort of rock collapse.

I knelt down- I didn't want to sit in case I hit something- and gingerly placed my bag against the floor. Nothing happened, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief for the time being. I then shoved my hand inside the largest pocket and pulled out my new torch. I also groped around inside it quickly and was glad to see that I still had an extra pair of batteries to use when the current ones would undoubtedly fail when I searched the passageway.

Zipping my bag up, I swung it back over my shoulder and stood back up. I was careful to stretch my legs slightly so that I wouldn't lose balance as I walked. I fumbled around with the torch and flicked the switch back on to reassess my surroundings.

I saw that the tunnel that led up the back of wall; where I previously had assumed that there was nothing, and I could just see faint etchings from my position. The curiosity took hold of me once more, and I felt compelled to stumble my way over to the stone in the distance.

In my haste, I probably wasn't as careful as I should have been, but I was ten years old; what can I say?

Thankfully, nothing went wrong and I arrived in front of the wall without trouble. With wonder, I gazed up at the unfinished hieroglyphs that were much more difficult to see the ones from the previous room because whatever paints that had been applied to them had faded from thousands of years of neglect. They were set inside the cutting of a sealed archway that made me wonder who would have been far down in the earth.

From the looks of it, the giant figures that covered most of the wall was of a man in plain clothing but he wore a crown on his head. He knelt before something...I couldn't really see properly. Flicking around quickly, I twisted my body so that I could position my torch underneath my chin and rummage through my bag. I dropped to my knees and pulled out as many books as I could from my spacious travelling bag.

Now, when I say books, I mean massive whoppers of books. I am and always have been a big reader. I still would be in the present day if I weren't so distracted...but I digress.

I stacked them together and evened the corners out so that it was a steady booster, and I gently stepped on it by using the wall as an extra support. All up, my books increased my head by a head's height. It may not have seemed like much, but it was enough to get a better point to view the faded image.

Holding the torch higher so that it was shining directly on the centre of the hieroglyph, I traced the blunt-edged lines of the carving with my eyes. Mentally, I managed to connect them up until they formed a proper shape; one that I'd seen before.

It was the dragon from the previous hieroglyphs: The one that I knew the name of. The last time I'd spoken the name, a door had opened. What's the bet to say that the same thing will happen again?

"Winged Dragon of Ra!" I confidently spoke to the wall. The echo bounced off of the stones and I was getting quite claustrophobic as I realised how close together those stones actually were. Shaking my head, I returned my gaze to the wall...that hadn't been affected by my verbalisation of its name.

I frowned, and peered closer at the carvings; my mind going red momentarily at the frustration of my plan not working. This could mean my life or death; I really do want things going my way at the moment!

"Why won't you work?" I asked to nothing, my hands reaching out to press against the sides of the dragon as I stared closer at the image. The only thing that the carvers had bothered to paint had been the eyes, so I focused on them.

Despite being the only thing finished on the hieroglyphic, they were still magnificently done. Let it never be said that Egyptians cannot paint. The blue eyes seemed to be almost alive; what with the way they glittered at me. It reminded me quite a bit of a cat; it just seemed to hold that level of feline intelligence. I've always loved cats; they make me feel safe; which is why I felt just a tiny bit more secure under the watchful gaze of the carving.

My mouth opened of its own accord, and uttered the words I'd spoken without the correct emotion earlier.

**"_Winged Dragon of Ra."_**

The eyes glinted yet again; making me a hundred percent positive that I hadn't been hallucinating the previous time it had occurred.

With a click; the wall that held the hieroglyphs of the man and the dragon shuddered open to reveal a room. Before I hurried inside it, I made sure to kneel back down on the ground and collect up all of my books and place them back into my bag. I then swung it back over my shoulder- revelling in the familiar weight of the heavy novels. I turned around to assess my new surroundings, and couldn't help but gasp at what I saw.

There was a massive room, with giant ceilings that I thought were going to collapse because of how thin they looked.

What surprised me the most, though, was that the room had been used recently. That I could tell. There was a set of semi-circular stairs that surrounded me, and, from where I stood, I could see that there were small etchings carved onto the edges. I shook my head: No more inaccurate deciphering for me!

Why, you ask? Because, to my relief, I saw torches flickering on the columns around me: Actual signs of recent human life!

Not that the room looked any more recent than what I assumed the Ancient Egyptians lived like: There was no electricity, nor any evidence that the room had ever reached AD years. Oh well; I was alive, so I couldn't complain.

I realised that I didn't need my torch to be turned on anymore; so I flicked the switch and replaced it back into the large pocket of my bag. I gazed back around the room- the lighting of the dozens of old-fashioned torches attached to the wall being surprisingly efficient.

I took a step into the threshold of the chamber, frowning as I noticed the layer of dust that moved away from the wind created by my movement. The rest of the room seemed to be visited and cleaned quite frequently; why was this area any different? As moved further, there was a sudden flicker and then the light in the room intensified; so much, even, that I had to blink rapidly for a few seconds so that my eyes could adjust.

I turned my head and saw that there was torch that was set above the archway, and it was now burning strongly; the old remnants of previously used wax dropping onto the floor where I had stood.

"That's weird," I quietly said to myself as I gave a small, confused smile. I shook my head to rid it of the issue, and began to move up through the chamber to the stairs.

I made a point to ignore the existence of the hieroglyphs beneath me- they'd been doing me more harm than good recently- and I proceeded to climb up them so that I would be able to follow the torches that led to a corridor.

Before I could make it there, however, I was promptly knocked over onto the ground by an older boy. I landed onto the hard stone with a cry of pain- that stuff does hurt to fall on, okay? - and I closed my eyes as I felt the impact of another human being landing on me. Luckily, the boy managed to manoeuvre himself so that he only collided with my legs, but that still caused enough pain.

I gasped as his knees crashed into my thighs, digging into the skin with their bony-like structure. His hands landed on either side of me and his head was hung low, letting me see that he was nearly bald- except for the long ponytail of black hair that was strictly tied back.

Raising his head, his eyes widened as he took me in; his mouth hanging open in shock. As I was still in a bit of discomfort, I cleared my throat and gave him a pointed glare. Snapping out of his daze, he blinked a few times before realising that he was still on top of me. He gasped out loud, before shuffling off of me.

He stood up and I saw that he was about six or seven years older than me, but I was only guessing. His clothing was strange; it was the type of rags that I'd seen in skits portraying Ancient Egypt, so what was he doing wearing them? I quickly followed by returning to my feet, but I was still rather small compared to him.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" He gasped out, and I blinked as I felt my brain translate his words into an understandable phrase. Hm, that was weird- I hadn't learnt that much Egyptian before arriving here.

"It's okay," I smiled kindly, and saw that his eyes lit up a bit with my words, almost as if he wasn't used to an apology being accepted so lightly. "Um, could you tell me where I am?"

The boy returned to his state of shock as he remembered where I'd appeared from. He hadn't seen when I'd walked through the archway, but since it was actually open, and I was here, then he should be able to connect the dots. He stiffened noticeably, before gulping and frowning to himself.

"I need to wake the master," he announced to me, before swiftly turning around and speed-walking to the door. "You wait here."  
>"Not exactly anywhere else that I can go," I muttered to myself. Slapping my arms against my sides, I sauntered back over to the stairs, and promptly sat myself unceremoniously down upon them. "So...where am I?"<br>I basically twiddled my thumbs for five minutes, absolutely bored out of my mind and wondering if I should just go and find my own way out of the place, when I heard footsteps quickly approaching me. My head snapped up and I whipped my gaze around to the door.

A man burst through the opening, and I was quite taken aback by his rugged appearance. His beard was his most noticeable feature; it seemed like it had rarely seen a trim. It grew from just above his lip right down to the point where it was hanging off of his chin in a pointed edge. His eyes were violet, but they were narrowed in a way that made me feel kind of...anxious.

Not wanting to be rude, I stood up to greet him, but I felt rather nervous by the look he was giving me. It said(and no pun intended for the show that I love to watch): "Thank God, you're here." Usually, I'd be simply confused by such an expression, but the way this man looked at me made me feel like he'd been waiting for this moment- like when a child wakes up on Christmas day and can't wait to unwrap their presents.

"Good evening," he told me, inclining his head in a respectful manner, "Surely, you must be confused as to where you are."  
>I opened my mouth to agree with him, but he continued on without waiting for a reply. He sounded like he was in a rush. Then again, he had just been woken up from sleep, so I'd also be rushing to get back to my comfy bed.<p>

"I assure you, we mean you no harm," he didn't meet my eyes when he told me this, making me doubt his words. He turned his head to the side and addressed the boy that had run into me earlier. "Rishid! Bring Marik here!"

The boy, who I now realised had a large welt appearing on the side of his face, bowed his head and muttered a quick "Yes, Master," before rushing out of the room to go and find this 'Marik' person.

"My name is Abasi Ishtar," the man told me, staring down intently at me, his gaze serious. I noticed that, despite the few wrinkles that were settling in on his skin, there were no smile lines. "Once Marik is here, I will explain everything to you."

"My name is Lemiara," I replied to him, gathering up the energy to speak to this stern man who sent me on edge. Not wanting to be rude, but still being rather curious, I cleared my throat. "If you don't mind me asking, but why do we need this 'Marik' person to be here before you tell me where I am?"  
>The man turned his stare up a few notches as I finished my question. I meet his eyes, and refused to look away, because I got the feeling that that was exactly what the man wanted.<p>

"We need Marik to be here," Abasi replied smoothly, clasping his hands behind his back to make himself seem more imposing of a figure, "because you are to be his wife."

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><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who read this, and I hope that you could all drop a review if you have the time? They really do make me work faster :) <strong> 

**Authors I recommend**: _Demented-Insane-Spirit, _she has a HikariMarik and Anzu story that I just love.

**NushiKasai**: She's a friend of mine and I love her stuff, I think any readers of this will like her Yu-Gi-Oh! story as well.


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